The city spread out before him like a living mosaic of shadow and light. Towering mansions, cobblestone streets slick with the faint sheen of rain, and the subtle hum of magical wards underfoot made the air feel thick with both history and latent danger. Aron's violet eyes scanned everything with calculated precision, noting the faint glow of street lamps, the curve of rooftops, the rhythm of invisible city life pulsing beneath the surface.
Hunger pricked at his stomach—a dull, insistent reminder of a reality he had yet to fully test. He adjusted the black attire he had bought from the System, the fabric light but snug, sleeves cinched at his waist, draping perfectly over his agile frame. The ensemble was unlike any he had ever worn, yet it seemed almost made for him, every contour amplifying his presence. A subtle thrill ran through him as he realized the effect it had on the few civilians who peeked from their windows. Whispers followed his passage, eyes lingering just a heartbeat too long, drawn to a figure that was both otherworldly and impossibly handsome.
The first sign of sustenance came in the form of a small but lavish eatery tucked between two wide cobblestone streets. Its windows were fogged with warmth, spilling golden light onto the street, and the scent of roasted meats and baked bread reached Aron before he even opened the door. He pushed it open, the chime of a bell announcing his entry, and stepped inside, immediately noticing the contrast between the bustling warmth of the restaurant and the eerie silence of the city streets.
A waitress, young and nervous, looked up from her notepad. "Welcome, sir. Table for one?"
Aron's grin was slow, predatory, yet somehow disarmingly charming. "Yes. And make it quick—I've got… business to attend to."
She blinked, startled, but nodded, guiding him to a polished wooden table near the window. He slid into the seat, letting his fingers brush the edge of the table almost lazily, eyes flicking over the menu like he was reading a battle plan. A simple gesture summoned the menu's holographic projection from the table's surface—another System bonus he hadn't fully tested yet.
Sandwiches, burgers, roasted meats, even exotic drinks with shimmering liquids and faintly glowing ice cubes—all of it displayed in high definition before him. Aron's stomach growled, a sound even he found satisfying. He selected a sandwich, a cheeseburger, and a fizzy drink, the total cost was four silver coins while he had summoned five silver coins from the SP he had converted earlier. The coins materialized in his palm, weightless yet solid, each one a testament to the System's strange reality-bending power.
As he took the first bite, the taste hit him like a revelation—warm bread, melted cheese, and the faint tang of perfectly cooked meat. His eyes widened slightly, violet orbs reflecting the soft amber light. "Hmm… the food is also real," he murmured under his breath, voice low but filled with awe. "That means I am really in the… game world now, huh?"
The flavors lingered, grounding him in this strange reality. Each bite seemed to anchor him further, reinforcing the thrill of the impossible. He savored the meal with meticulous care, chewing slowly, eyes flicking to the door and the dimly lit streets beyond. Every instinct told him to remain aware—this city was alive, and alive cities had teeth.
Finishing the meal, he tossed the empty plate aside and waved the waitress over. With a few flicks of his wrist, the five silver coins vanished into her hands. "Keep the change," he said, his grin widening just slightly. She nodded, almost breathless, as he rose, adjusting his black attire with practiced ease.
The restaurant's patrons stole glances at him, whispering amongst themselves. His clothing, a dark ensemble with sleeves cinched at the waist and intricate embroidery along the edges, made him stand out like a shadow among the mundane. His face, handsome and striking, drew looks that lingered too long, a quiet awe mixed with fear. He smirked to himself—another subtle benefit from his SP-spent purchase.
Stepping back onto the wet cobblestones, Aron inhaled deeply, the scent of the city sharp in his nostrils. "Let's get this mission over with…" he murmured, voice low, confident. His boots clicked against the stone in a steady rhythm as he moved toward the eastern district, senses alert, mind calculating every route, every potential trap.
The narrow streets ahead were silent, empty, and oppressive. Shadows pooled in corners, stretching unnaturally along the walls, as if the city itself was testing him. Aron slowed just slightly, violet eyes sweeping left and right, every muscle coiled, every sense heightened. Then, with a subtle shift, his form blurred. In an instant, he was moving at impossible speed, a streak of black and violet against the misty streets.
Time seemed to stretch and bend as he raced through the empty lanes, the wind whipping past his face, carrying the faint tang of iron and rain. He moved with the precision of a predator, footfalls silent despite the velocity. A moment later, he arrived in front of the grand mansion of Duke Akresman—a towering structure with black stone walls etched with faintly glowing runes. Even from this distance, the faint hum of powerful wards vibrated under his feet.
Aron slowed, letting his form solidify, eyes sweeping the massive structure. A slow, deliberate grin curved across his lips. "Haha… there are forty guards, huh? And they're all high-level… this is going to be so much fun," he whispered, voice low, almost reverent with excitement. Each syllable dripped with predatory anticipation.
He crouched slightly, observing the guards' patterns. Even their movements had rhythm, predictable yet lethal. The streets leading to the mansion were wide, but lined with watchtowers and faintly shimmering wards that pulsed like the heartbeat of the city itself. Aron's mind raced through calculations—entry points, guard rotations, potential magical traps, even the timing of moonlight filtering through the eastern wall. Every second he spent observing increased the thrill coursing through his veins.
A flicker of movement caught his eye—a patrol rounding the corner, their boots tapping a rhythm against the stone. Aron's grin widened, violet eyes flashing. With near-silent steps, he melted into the shadows, blending seamlessly with the darkness as though the city itself recognized his mastery over its flow.
"This… this is exactly what I live for," he muttered under his breath, teeth flashing in a sharp, almost predatory smile. "Challenges. Danger. Survival. And now… rewards."
The mansion loomed above him, its blackened towers stretching like jagged teeth into the clouded sky. Light flickered faintly in the windows, reflections of the guards' armor, the shimmer of wards, the faint, almost imperceptible glow of the duke's presence within. Aron flexed his fingers, feeling the pulse of his blades already ready in his mind, even if they were not physically in his hands.
The city around him seemed to hold its breath, shadows frozen in anticipation, as if the world itself had paused to witness the coming storm. A low hum vibrated through the ground beneath him, the wards' magic brushing against his senses, teasing, challenging, daring him to act.
Aron's grin widened further, violet eyes alight with excitement. "Let's see how strong this Duke really is… and how many tricks he's hiding behind those forty guards," he murmured, crouching lower. His body coiled like a spring, every nerve alive, every muscle poised to launch forward in perfect synchronization with his mind.
The mansion awaited, silent yet throbbing with latent energy. The city's streets stretched before him, darkened corridors lined with danger. And Aron, predator among prey, was ready to leap.
"Let the battle begin..." he whispered, a low, dangerous purr escaping his lips, as the mist around him swirled, carrying the faint scent of ozone, rain, and the promise of blood.
The game—no, the Mission—had begun.
_ _ _
[ Current SP: 19 {After buying Shen blades = 90SP and Attire = 10SP, Five silver coins = 1SP} ]
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To be continued....